


Self Control and Just a Touch of Need

by TimmyJaybird



Series: Ground Zero [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place at the same time as "Actions Speak Louder than Words", what are the rest of the Joker's partners in crime up to while he's lip-locking with Gotham's Big Bad Bat? Is Scarecrow a real partner at all- what does Ivy have up her sleeve- and just how mentally stable is Harley?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self Control and Just a Touch of Need

Her slender legs swung over the ledge of the table, kicking idly, finger nails _tap tap tapping_ on the cold metal. Every tap seemed to count one second, two, three, the night just clicking away.

“God won’t you just sit still?” Crane asked from his computer. He was recording something- Harley had stopped listening when he began those long, detailed names that once, _once_ she would have tried to follow.

Frankly, now she didn’t give a fuck.

“I’m not dancin’,” she said, “I’m just sittin’ here s’all.” _Tap tap tap_. She clicked her tongue. “Think Mista J will be back soon?”

“He said not to expect him,” Crane muttered, “I just wish he’d clue us in as to what the hell he’s planning. I’ll be damned if I follow that lunatic blindly into war.”

Harley huffed, then slid off the table, leaving the little basement room and heading up the stairs. The main floor of the warehouse was pocketed with bits of streetlamp and moonlight through the broken glass. She made her way through dust and debris, slipping out through a busted window- in the dark, she wasn’t sure where the door was, and part of her knew it would just be locked. Not like anyone apt to be in that building would be so boring as to use a _door_.

Outside, the air was cool. Harley shoved her hands into the pockets of her torn dark jeans, scoffing her red boots on the ground. Her mind felt like it was going in twenty directions- where was the Joker- what was he planning- why hadn’t he let her in on _anything_ \- when would he be back-

“I can hear your brain over the sounds of the city.”

Harley jerked her head, saw Ivy;s illuminated silhouette a few feet away- one delicate hand resting on her curved hip, her pale pink lips smiling.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked, walking over- boots pushing aside pebbles and dirt and dust and the distance that seemed to haunt her when she saw the blonde.

“Only everything,” Harley sighed. “He’s been gone a while, hasn’t he?”

“No, he hasn’t Harl,” she said, a chuckle to her smooth voice. “It’s been _maybe_ two hours. I wouldn’t expect him back before morning- if not until tomorrow night.”

“I wish he’d told me what the hell he was doing.” She pouted, scoffed the toe of her boot. “He _shoulda_.”

“He should’ve told us all everything,” Ivy said offhand, rolling her eyes. “Honestly Harley, I don’t know what you see in him.”

“That’s because you just don’t _see him_ ,” she said, folding her arms. “When it’s just him and I, I know everything. Well...almost. Enough that I don’t worry! But when you and Crane get added to the mix-“

“If you think to blame me and strawhead for this-“

“Well, I wouldn’t be so worried if he’d clued me in, and he woulda clued me in if you two weren’t around.”

Ivy huffed. “Well, _excuse us_ for being willing to work with the two most deranged and unstable people in all of Gotham! Maybe we should just take this war into our own hands- bring some intelligence back into this city.”

“Hey! We got plenty of intelligence-“

Harley’s voice cut off in a cry as glass shattered under a barrage of bullets, and Ivy’s curvy frame was crashing into her, pushing her into the ground. The woman’s weight held her down, and Harley never even realized she herself had begun to tremble as bullets dug into the dirt a foot away from her.

“What the hell!” she was crying out, and Ivy was pushing off her, grabbing her, pulling her up and dragging her along the building, pushing her first through the remains of a window, before climbing in behind her, a slew of bullets just missing her.

“Go!” she was yelling, and Harley was running for the basement, lungs burning with fear more than her rapid breaths. She skipped stairs, nearly falling, and burst through the door, only skidding to a stop when she ran into the metal table.

“Crane! Guns! P-people!” She didn’t know what she was trying to say, her mind was suddenly in a fog- and then Ivy was behind her, closing and latching the door and pushing that red hair out of her face.

“Suit up Crane, we have company.”

He looked up from his computer and grinned wickedly. Finally, time to play.

Crane had his mask on in second flat, already plenty of toys hidden in his slim suit jacket. He was grinning beneath the rather horrifying mask, unlocking the door and kicking it open. His fingers reached down, drummed against the little gun holstered there- a light thing, not weighed down bu bullets or much of anything, just the toxin within that could burst out in horrifying puffs with the flex of a finger.

He shivered in anticipation.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he met the empty warehouse, ringing with the sporadic sounds of bullets. The men hadn’t come in- they probably thought it was rigged.

It actually wasn’t- this little hide out was so temporary, Crane hadn’t bothered with anything except a few locks on the door- which he rarely actually remembered to use. He had nothing of true value here- any data entered into his computer was saved on his personal server, accessible on the computer in his true hide-out-

The one none of these fools knew about.

He was grinning beneath his mask as he walked to one of the windows, seeing a shadow moving outside. He hopped through the broken window and pulled the gun from his side, grabbing the man walking by the shoulder and turning him around.

Without hesitation he pulled the trigger, shooting a finely tinted mist into the man’s face. He screamed, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes- it burned at first- before he opened them and blinked, staring off into the empty night-

Well, empty to Crane, to most people, but to him filled with moving shadows with gaping mouths and obscene tongues, saliva dripping from their fangs as they rushed towards him. He screamed- dropped the gun he had been holding- and was running, off into nowhere.

Crane grinned. His latest batch of fear toxin had a little additive- with the help of Ivy and all her pheromones- it burned the victim at first, so they had no chance to react to the assault, and slowly shut down their respiratory system over the course of a half hour- if the adrenaline from the fear didn’t cause a heart attack first.

He was vaguely aware of Harley and Ivy climbing through the window behind him, but ignored them, slipping into the shadows. It was time to instill more fear.

“Fuck, where is he goin’?” Harley asked, and Ivy grabbed her arm and held her close as she moved against the building.

“Who knows- Crane’s an odd one. Just let him go, Harl. We’ve got bigger problems- like getting outta here without bullet holes.”

Harley pulled her arm free and gripped her gun- a little thing, but she hadn’t been ready for this- none of them had. Somehow the whole damn underbelly of Gotham had declared war without so much as forty-eight hours of notice and it was just _rude_ -

“Earth to Harley! Let’s go!”

Harley hadn’t heard whatever Ivy had been saying, but she followed her as they burst into the darkness, running at full speed. Sure enough, a few strides, and guns were bursts behind them, the bullets following in a hot trail- the sounds of terrified shrieks coupling with them in an orchestra of fear.

Harley huffed, her lungs burning as the warehouse disappeared behind her- as she followed Ivy, who seemed to be outpacing her just a tad, slowly growing further and further from reach.

Ivy disappeared between two buildings when Harley tripped- her boot catching on an old piece of scrap metal. She was thrown down, the knees of her jeans tearing, her flesh scrapping painfully. She gave a little, sharp cry, and rolled onto her back- just to stare up at a very large, built man- gripping a machine gun like it was his strangled lover.

“Boss said you gals were pretty ones,” he said, aiming it at Harley’s chest. “Shame he didn’t want any of ya alive- I wouldn’t mind a turn or two.”

He chuckled- he obviously found his blatant references to rape just _hysterical_ \- Harley found them positively infuriating. The least he could do was just shoot her and be done with it- not decide she had to be a victim twice just because of what she had between her thighs.

The gun pressed down against her belly, along her exposed navel, to the hem of her jeans. She gritted her teeth- felt fire below her skin- and in one swift movement bumped the gun up with her thigh, and connected her foot with the man’s gut. The gun jostled enough and slipped to the side, his fingers clenching on the trigger- the bullets landed uselessly in the dirt, and Harley rocked back against her shoulders, launching up and into him, tackling him to the ground.

She was little, but Harley knew how to use what weight she had. They tumbled down to the ground, she straddling him, and one of her hands was on her hip, unseathing her knife. In a quick motion she slashed across his belly, his flimsy t-shirt adn flesh giving way as blood welled up.

“Think that’s funny?” she asked, dragging her knife along the wound- deeper now- “Think I’d be a fun fuckable toy?” Another drag and his gut was opened wide for her, and he was screeching and gurgling, arms flailing weakly. “Think it’d be _fun_ to just tear me open like this with your pathetic dick?”

She stabbed her knife into him and reached her hands into the wound, pushing bast muscle and his stomach, gripping intestines and pulling them out- hot and greasy and gag-worthy- and leaned over him, sinking her bloodied hand into his short hair and pulling his head up. His eyes were listless, nearly gone, as she wound his intestines around his neck tightly, pulling on them.

“How about I just fist-fuck your gut and call it a day?” She asked, a chaotic giggle lacing her voice as she pulled and pulled and cut his oxygen off, and his eyes were rolling back and then yes, _yes_ his body went black from blood loss and lack of oxygen, and he was gone.

Harley cackled, didn’t hear footsteps behind her, or Ivy’s gasp at the horrific scene. She did feel those slender hands slipping under her arms to drag her off the body though, disconnecting her from her growing masterpiece.

“Goddammit Harley, what the hell were you doing?”

Harley knelt on the ground, head tipped to the side, staring at the man. His gut was a grin- such a big, pretty, red smile- like his mouth.

Oh, she was making Joker proud, that’s what she was doing.

Ivy thought for a moment Harley was lost, kneeling there staring and giggling under her breath, and she did the only thing she could- she slipped her arms under Harley’s again and forcefully dragged her away, down the ally. The gunshots had ceased, and Ivy hoped Crane was having his fun with the rest of these armed men- but she didn’t dare take a chance of any of them sneaking up on her and Harley.

She was, after all, unarmed currently- didn’t have anything at all, and the plant life here was beyond withered and dead- and Harley, why, she seemed so far gone that she would be no help at all.

Finally Harley got to her feet and followed Ivy through the dim lit streets, skirting parts of the city. Her body ached as the night dragged on, as city buildings turned to lush green- and she realized Ivy was pulling her into one of the city’s smaller parks.

“Whadda we doin’ here?” she asked, her tongue feeling thick and rubbery in her mouth. The blood on her hands had dried- it made her skin itch.

“Hiding out,” Ivy said, walking over to a small shed. She reached up, into a little hanging lamp which didn’t seem to have been lit in possibly years, and fished out a small key. After unlocking the door, she stuffed it back in and pulled Harley into the shed.

It was dark and stuffy and dusty and made Harley’s skin itch more. She twitched while Harley re-locked the door, then was crouching down, pulling open the doors on the floor and revealing a set of stairs.

“Neat,” Harley said, peering down, and Ivy was guiding her down them, closing and locking those doors behind her.

The stairs opened up into a small room, Earthy smelling and only finished because Ivy wasn’t interested in being buried alive.

“Where are we?” Harley asked as Ivy reached up and pulled the string on the ancient light. It flickered to life.

“We’re home,” she whispered.

He crouched down, reached a nimble hand into knotted hair, and pulled the lifeless man’s head up. His eyes were open wide, pupils dilated, mouth still hanging open from his screams. Crane thought his throat may have torn itself.

Yes, this new formula was perfect. It was ideal for anyone he didn’t want to keep alive, at least. He’d have to tweak it a bit, have a version in case any of these goons might prove of use to him one day.

He slipped back into the warehouse and head downstairs, combing half-mindedly through his make-shift lab. Few things were of importance to him, and after he’d gathered the very few things, he kicked over one of the computer towers he had, and pulled the side of the case off. Inside, a screen was blank, staring at him- but one press of a button and it came to life, starting a countdown at two minutes.

Crane walked out whistling, sauntering into the night as the sky lit up with fire and the building was reduced to smoldering ash.

Harley was letting hot water wash over her, sinking her bloodied hands into her blonde hair and tinging parts of it pink, before the water washed that away too. It was funny, how hot water just burned anything you didn’t want away for twenty minutes or so- until your mind remembered you can’t burn memories.

Her legs ached from the running, and she had a burn on her side from where the hot bullets had just grazed her. That she didn’t feel. But she could feel the man’s hot, slick intestines in her hands still, and she tightened her fists and wanted to punch the shower wall.

In her mind he was faceless- he was everyone and no one, a man in orange or black and white she had treated at Arkham before her fall, or one she had never met before. He was one of the beasts that meant they had to segregate the inmates by gender, because he was a beast and maybe he was sick, yes, but Harley thought he belonged in Blackgate and not the Asylum for what he- they- did to the women, and when they couldn’t reach them, the other men.

She’d treated patients that had been raped inside those walls. Some lashed out and beat at anyone- even her- some retreated into themselves and were lost- and some, some lost it all and Harley couldn’t count the bodies that had turned up because of it. But did anyone care? No, it was all shoved under the rug and forgotten- because sometimes, it was the staff making the victims.

She squeezed her eyes shut and saw a lifeless body, arms cut open from wrist to elbow- sawed at with a splinter that was once a plastic fork. Two guards had taken turns with her- Harley had seen it. She’d gone and seen the security footage- she’d gone over their heads and reported it. She expected them fired- she expected a trial-

They were there the next day, laughing, and the footage was gone. When she brought it up to her superior, he said she never spoke to him.

Two days later, that body appeared, and she knew everyone there was just as insane as the patients they treated.

In her anger she bit down on her tongue- tasted copper and spit blood down at her feet. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and cut the water, stepping out and wrapping the towel around her that Ivy had so nicely provided.

Ivy didn’t want her to put her clothes back on- the jeans were torn with dried blood all over them- and she had left a little sundress out, one of her own no doubt, in a dark forest green. Harley slipped it over her shoulders and looked at her plain face in the mirror- no make-up, nothing at all. Just a pair of cat-like eyes staring back, a little nose- a few freckles. No big red grin and deep black eyes and white face and-

_I miss him_.

She sighed ran her hand over her face to contain herself. Her told her about that- she was too possessive, too clingy. It left her weak, vulnerable. She had to contain that control and command it and own it until it was nothing to her and she was free free _free_. She had to own herself, so one day she could own everyone else. Control her needs and wants so they did not control her.

So much control from a man who otherwise glorified the loss of it.

Harley ruffled her hair with the towel, then left it draped over the sink and left the simple little bathroom. She wasn’t sure what she had expected of Ivy- an underground apartment wasn’t it. Part of her expected her to have some posh, upscale apartment with a doorman and a porcelain bathtub and perfume that cost more than her graduate classes had. And part of her expected to sleep in a tree or something.

Maybe a tree apartment would be better. Someone should capitalize on that.

“You look better,” Ivy said, lounging on a simply grey-green couch. Maybe she did need cushions and not rough bark. Maybe.

“He’s not gonna know where we are.”

“No one will,” Ivy said, standing up. “This place is my own little secret, Harl. We all have to have them, or we’d never survive in this city. Not with the police and the Bat and each other.”

She walked over, reaching up to twirl some of Harley’s wet hair.

“But he has to find us- we can’t leave Mista J out there.”

“Oh please Harley, the Joker is the _last_ person in this city who needs someone to hold his hand. Do you think I’d join up with him if I thought he’d lose this war?” Harley was frowning still, and Ivy sighed. “Tomorrow Harley, we’ll look into it. We’ve still got contacts, even if one of your favorite was turned into a meat pinata.”

Harley laughed at that- god she shouldn’t have but she did- and Ivy was smiling.

“You really have enough faith in Mista J to _really_ throw in with us? I thought you were just following Crane.”

Ivy huffed. “Oh please, that man is a lunatic. Not that your damned Joker isn’t bat-shit crazy, but Crane is a special kind of crazy too. He just gives me easy access to a lab- and I’d rather not have the king of fear as an enemy. But,” she added, letting go of Harley’s hair and giving her cheek a gentle stroke. “None of them are the real reason I decided to throw in with you crazy lot.”

Ivy leaned closer, and Harley could see how perfectly pale pink her lips were. She wondered how long it took for those to kill someone.

“See Harley, I didn’t throw in with Crane or the Joker. I joined for you, doll. The two of us can own this city without those silly boys.”

Harely felt something hot in her chest- tight, heavy like lead over her lungs, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her skin tingled and she tried to roll Ivy’s words over in her head, but all she saw was shiny pink and wondered what poison tasted like, and she was falling again and losing herself to wants and needs and things she didn’t have a name for.

He’d be so disappointed in her.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Since I'm really trying to bring more characters into this work, I decided to write something with the Joker and Batsy _at all_ , which is pretty hard for me. As the summary says, takes place as the 2nd fic is happening.


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